Swimming in the Dark Waters
by alirodina
Summary: Tokiya loses...
1. Shallow End

Flame of Recca: Swimming in the Dark Waters

Disclaimer: This isn't mine obviously. I wouldn't be in fan fiction writing if it were. Anyways... I know that most of the characters are really acting out of character but hey... this is a fanfic???

and of course..._what is a dream? It is after reality._

Part 1: Shallow End

There wasn't even time for panic to set in as the flail swung dangerously close to him. His grip tightened around the Ensui, knowing that he cannot dodge this one yet again. He was too tired, and his right leg throbbed with pain from the wound he received earlier on. His jeans were already sticky with blood and he had left a trail on the floor that glittered like liquid ruby. He wanted to close his eyes, but thought it too cowardly. If death should come, he decided, he was to view it like a man. Like a damn Hokage.

The man laughed softly, eyes glittering with hostile light. Tokiya's shoes scraped against the concrete floor in an effort to remain standing as the impact of the metal ball and the Ensui pushed him backwards. He tried to regain his footing even as white hot pain claimed his arms, making him moan out loud. His movements caused his wound to throb more painfully and his vision blurred. Cursing, he stuck the Ensui on the ground to help him stand up.

"Why don't you give up now, Mikagami?" the man called out. The metal ball lay by his feet, momentarily immobile. He held out his hand in a gesture of peace. "Let me have the Ensui and I'll stop. I'll let you live."

The boy laughed bitterly. "You'll let me die." He corrected. He couldn't even see the man now. All he could see was his sister's face. The way she looked before she died. And to think that her death had been for naught. That the Ensui would now be lost to them forever. What would he tell her, when they meet again? He charged, slipping on his own blood. His right arm was broken, so he transferred the Ensui to his left. _Neesan, I'm coming._

He could smell wood burning, even hear the crackling of the fire. The air felt cool and invigorating like it does after rainfall. The distant song of the frogs accented his impression. He opened his eyes slowly, almost afraid of what he would see. He frowned at his unbidden fear. He didn't know why he should be afraid.

His glazed eyes landed on the rough wood beams of the ceiling. He was inside the house. How surprising. He had been in a sort of open place. There was a man . He moaned , head throbbing painfully. Had he hurt himself there? He couldn't remember

"My Lord, please don't try to get up."

He looked around for the source of that voice. The sound surprised him, but it's smoothly brisk tone was most comforting. There was a lot of love and anxiety in that tone and it warned him more than the fire had. It was then that he noticed a woman squatting near the fire, ladling some broth into a roughly made bowl.

"Who are you?" he asked immediately regretting that because her green eyes filled with hurt as the words come out of his lips. He obeyed her behest and remained on the soft pallet, trying to ignore the way his whole body ached. Images o a metal ball flashed across his mind, along with remembered pain. He watched her absently as she rose, coming close to him with slow graceful steps. A very pretty woman. Her simple green kimono revealed her excellent figure and contrasted nicely with her long plum colored hair. It was when she knelt down before him that he noticed the tears that streamed from her eyes.

"The fever has reached your head." She murmured, placing the bowl beside him, but making no move to feed him in her grief. "It has affected your memory, my lord, so that you cannot remember me – who loves you with all my breaking heart. I whom you hold most dearest to my heart..."

He wiped away her tears tenderly with his left hand, because the other lay broken by his side. "I am sorry." He said, inadequately. "How- I mean, I cannot remember anything- but I feel the love that you have described. Truly, I do."

She shook her head. " I am satisfied, my lord. You are alive. It is what matters." She then lifted the broth to his lips. "Drink no, please. You must regain your strength. Have you in need of water?"

The broth burned his throat pleasantly. Water trickling down- hardening into clear ice. His eyes widened and he sat up awkwardly, gasping at the pain and spilling the broth all over. "The Ensui, where is it?"

Her green eyes couldn't meet his blue ones. She pushed him back on the bed gently without answering, removing the wet blanket from him and gathering the pieces of the broken bowl. When he repeated his anguished question, she sighed. "It is gone. It had been the enemy jonin's orders that it be taken away.

"It cannot be gone..." he hissed, angrily. Frustrated at being so helpless. " Mifuyu..."

"Yes," she said, sharply. "What about Mifuyu, my lord? What has she to do with this?" she was clutching the bedcovers against her chest, tears streaming down her cheeks freely now. "Do you remember her name when you have forgotten mine? If your love for her weighed far more than yours for me- why is it that you had let her go? Why bother me in my peaceful life."

He wisely said nothing, although her sobs weighed down his heart heavily. Mifuyu. Wasn't she his sister? Someone very close. And this woman, who was she? She looked familiar. Was she indeed his wife?

She knelt down yet again before him with a wet sponge. He shivered pleasurably as she wiped the spilled broth from his chest gently. She looked on the brink of tears' but was too ladylike to give in to her hurt as she was tending to her lord. His love for her came to the fore, making him forget about Mifuyu. And the Ensui. "Do I hurt you, my lord?"

"What is my name?" he asked her. "What is yours?"

She smiled faintly. " Yes. You are Tokiya Mikagami, my lord. I am your- your wife. I am called Fuuko." She stood abruptly, hiding her face as she could not hold back her tears any longer.

Fuuko. That was familiar as well. But the love he felt for this wife wasn't a part of that memory. He sighed. "Fuuko- hanata- come here." He whispered.

"What is it, my lord?" she said, turning back but not daring to come near.

He yawned. He was drowsy. "I love you, my warrior. My brave wife."

She smiled again and his heart skipped a beat. "Rest now, hanata."

"Mi-chanï¡" sharp cries filled the arena. Recca Hanabishi held Yanagi Sakoshita in a tight embrace so as to break her fall. But no one held on to Fuuko Kirisawa and it was she , with Kaoru Koganei who rushed to her teammate's aid.

"Give me the Ensui." Amano said, sharply. "It was part of the deal." He reminded them. Spectators cheered him on, unaware of the sad state of their idol's opponent as they basked in his victory. Fuuko glared at the man balefully. She knew that Tokiya had given his word and he would not like to break his vow, but she knew just how it would feel. It would break her heart if she loses her Fuujin. She was almost glad that he wasn't conscious now.

Half heartedly, she went towards the prostrate form of Tokiya, noting the bruises that covered his slim frame and the blood that had dried on his jeans. He looked soyoungin his pain. She bit her lip. Holding his hand tenderly, she extracted the sword from his grip. The blade lost form just as her hand touched the handle, spilling water all over the arena. "I'm sorry, Mi-chan." She whispered. "I'll win it back for you, I promise."

The medics arrived and placed Tokiya's prone body on a stretcher. Yanagi came forward to talk to them. Fuuko did not like the way one of them shook his head. As well as the way Yanagi cried. She gritted her teeth in anger. " Hold on there, Mi-chanï¡" she whispered. "I'll win it back for you, I promise."

Amino laughed mirthlessly. "And how are you going to do that, little girl, when your teammate, who's stronger than you are lies there half dead?"

Fuuko's green eyes glazed with anger. "Easy." She said, sharply. "Cause my teammate there had put up a good fight and you're not as fresh as I am."

"Tokiya sama."

He opened his eyes to her lovely face. She peered at him anxiously with warm brown eyes, her long brown hair making a curtain around them as she bent closer. "Mifuyu. I'm sorry." He muttered, blushing at her proximity. She was alive. The thought made him forget his pain.

"It doesn't matter, Tokiya sama." She smiled shyly. "What matters is that you are here, with me. Hanata..." she broke off, touching his face gently. "I am so glad you are alive. That you have not died. The Ensui- we can always regain it. But your life we cannot have back."

"She is right, my lord." Fuuko's voice cut through the silence Mifuyu's statement preceded. Tokiya looked at her in surprise, realizing just then that she had been standing by the door all along. The thought disturbed him. He had the feelin that the words Mifuyu just said, as well as the other woman's caress hurt her. He didn't want to hurt her. " Are you hungry, my lord?"

Mifuyu arose. "I must go, Tokiya sama. Maybe I will visit later."

Fuuko roused herself from deep thought and bowed to the older woman. "Must you go, Mifuyu san? Can you not join us for tea?" she said politely. No one would know just how jealous she was of her husband's old lover, Fuuko was too much of a Japanese woman. As silentand as secretive as deep running brook.

"Oh no. I'm sorry, Fuuko." Mifuyu murmured, somewhat flustered. Her hand was trembling as she reached out for her parasol. "But I must indeed be going."

Tokiya looked at his wife as the woman left. She was looking miserable again. He wanted to touch her. To somewhat allay her tears. But he did not know what to do. He sighed.

"Are the wounds hurting you, my lord?" she asked, jumping to attention suddenly. " Hokuto had gathered the herbs for your wound- and I have set your arm, whilst you were sleeping. Perhaps by a couple of days- you'll be able to move about." She approached the low table where a pestle rested inside a bowl. After crushing what Tokiya guessed to be Hokuto's herbs, she added a few drops water.

He flinched as she took away the bandages that bound his wounds. She sensed this with a smile, although her eyes were still fixed on her activity. "Don't worry, my lord. This will not hurt." She stuck two fingers in the bowl and rubbed the concoction gently on his wounds.

Her soft caresses produced contractions at the regions of his groin and he moaned softly. "Fuuko..." Dear God, he was half dead and he wanted her.

"Am I hurting you, my lord?" she sounded worried.

"No." he muttered, seizing her hand with both of his own and kissing it tenderly. "No, hanata."

She gasped, the sound soft against the distant shouts of the village children, the soft clinks of metal against metal from the nearby blacksmith's. "My lord." He wondered if she would cry again. Sorrow seemed to wrap her as much as her kimono did. Maybe that was what he loved about her. Or the way she hid her misery with a passively polite countenance. Her lips were soft as they met his and he repeated his moan.

He wanted to wrap her with his hands, protect her from her own misery, but knowing that in his present state, he could not offer her anything. His good hand closed around hers, knowing how his grip might be hurting her, but she didn't complain. His tongue touched her pliant lips and she obeyed, opening for him.

They were both out of breath when the kiss ended. She withdrew without a word, tending his wounds again as if nothing happened.

"Fuuko..." he began, not bothering to fight the urge and holding her hand as tightly as before. "I should have said it first, it was you who needed so to hear it..."

"No, my lord. What you have done is fine by me. I am but your servant in love."she shook her head in gentle negation. "That you are here before me is enough. If it is Mifuyu whom you need... then I will- I will abide by your wishes. That I know that you are safe... you are alive... that is enough."

"It is not enough." He said angrily. Her servility annoyed him even as his love for her burned so brightly it hurt. "Why must you treat yourself like that? I never married you to be my slave. I love you."he sighed. " You are my equal in love. We are both slaves."

"You never had said such things to me." She said, wistfully. "You have changed, my lord." She took a roll of bandages from inside her sleeve and started to bind his arm.

"Call me by my name, hanata." He brushed stray strands of plum colored hair from her face tenderly. His arm was numbed by the herbs for which he was endlessly thankful.

"Why?" she muttered, frowning. "Because Mifuyu calls you soï¡" he realized he loved her petulant expression. It hadn't made so much of an impression on him when- he paused. When what? Images of Fuuko fighting flashed across his mind. Her pain. He felt a familiar pang in his chest. He didn't like it when men hurt her. She was too womanly. And it was she who needed his apologies.

"No, she calls me 'lord' like you do. I want you to call me by my name that no one else calls me." He put in. _Mi-chan, hold on ._He frowned. " Did you say something, hanata?"

The sun was barely touching the tips of the trees and the world was for the moment silent. It was too early for human sounds and too late for the woods to whisper. Tokiya leaned his head on a post, the floor was so raised from the ground that his feet barely touched the stone steps leading to the house.

He felt something warm on his shoulders. "You might get cold outside, my- Tokiya." Fuuko said, tucking the coverlet firmly around him. "But I am so glad that you can still enjoy the dawn like you used to do." She sat beside him quietly. Tokiya could smell her elusive perfume mingled with the sweet tang of the morning wind and the smell of soup cooking from inside. He never knew what perfume she uses. It was one of her unfathomable secrets.

"We can enjoy it together." He put in, drawing her closer to him. And placing the coverlet on her shoulders so that it encompassed them both. She sighed. "You know, hanata, I remember a girl very much like you... but I didn't love her. She looked ,like you and acted a little like you, but I didn't love her as much as I love you."

"Why is that?"she said, softly.

"I don't know." He lied. He knew why. His dead sister was the answer. He was so wrapped up in her death he didn't notice anything much. But he realized just how much he can love Fuuko. His warrior. His head ached. He was married to her now, wasn't he? Wasn't she the same girl?

"Perhaps you loved her"she murmured absently, snuggling closer to his body's warmth. "you just didn't realize"

The thought struck him. "Yes, perhaps that is so."

Author's Note: try that for whimsicalï¡ bear with me please. And this comes from someone who never liked fushigi yugi. /wah


	2. Deep End

Part 2: Deep End

Author's note: I am surprised. No one hated me for making Fuuko into such a traditional meek woman. Hmm. Or maybe people were too angry to write me a review. How sad. Or maybe no one really cared. Anyway… the series isn't mine. Wouldn't I be rich and well known if it were?

In many ways doth the full heart reveal

The presence of love it would conceal.

E. Coleridge

" Go, Fuuko san!" Kaoru cried out, enthusiastically waving his Kougan Anki about and nearly decapitating Domon Ishijima as he did so. " For Mikagami kun!"

Fuuko gritted her teeth in concentration. Amino was already covered with bruises caused by Tokiya's icicles and he might not have noticed that the flail had very well placed cracks on it, care of the Ensui. It was a very dire day indeed when Amano dared Fuuko Kirisawa in battle. " This is for you, Mi-chan!"

" Fuuko."

" Yes, my lord?" she was shaping the rice balls nimbly in her hands. Tokiya loved it that she rinses her hands with lemons. The scent and a lingering taste is left on the rice balls. " Do you want of anything, Tokiya?"

" Can we go down the creek today?" walking slowly towards her in the kitchen. He watched her slim back as she worked, wanting to span her waist with his hands. The thought was so foreign to his common cognitive functions he surprised himself by blushing. " I want to see the waters sparkle under the sun, to listen to the cheerful song of the birds… again." And to think that he almost would never. Had he died… this chance would never again come.

Her smile was more than enough gratification for this unexpected bit of poetry from Tokiya Mikagami. She placed the last rice ball on the tray and rinsed her hands with the lemon scented fingerbowl. " Are you sure you are strong enough, my lord?"

He nodded. " Would we go?"

She tilted her head to one side coyly. " Why of course, my lord, since you so want it to be so." She crossed her arms. Her teasing attitude reminded him of a boyish girl, who cut her hair short and fought men's battles. Love wasn't part of that memory, but he knew there could be. Maybe… there should be.

" I want you to want it to be so as well." He said, somewhat petulantly. That was so uncharacteristic of him that he was surprised yet again. He usually never cared enough what others wanted as long as he got what he wanted. Funny what love, unexpected it may be can do to a man.

" But I do so want it." She said innocently. " Didn't you know already?"

" You aren't making fun of me are you now?" he asked in mock humility and assumed hurt tones. " And I thought better of you, hanata."

" I never jest, my lord." She said, dimpling. He had never noticed those before, her dimples. But he noticed so little the last seven years he might as well have been dead. He leaned over to inspect them closer. If he had to make a fool of himself to see her smile again, then let him be a fool. Assuredly, she would never think it of him. " You should know that by now."

Fuuko sat down by the jutting root of a tree without sparing a thought for grass stains on her black kimono. She had packed their lunch in a cloth and had the small bundle on her lap. Tokiya leaned against the trunk of the same tree and breathed in the sharply cold air.

" If anyone can see the winds" Fuuko said, dreamily. " I think these ones would be as bright and sparkly as diamonds."

He looked at her absently. Without her usual cloak of misery, she looked quite young, her features small and somewhat kittenish except for her full lips, which were quite large for her face. Plum colored eyelashes fanned her cheeks languidly as she watched the ripples on the brook. Her stance was relaxed, but he knew how gracefully she could move. Which wasn't surprising. She was one of the Hokages, was she not?

" I have forgotten you." He mused, idly. " as I have forgotten who I once was. Myself I could know anytime. Nobody truly does forget. But you… would you permit me to know you again?"

" I don't think it would be very wise, after all, my lord. Your father never did approve of – of you marrying outside the clan. After all, you were betrothed to Mifuyu were you not?"

" What should they matter to us?" he said, although he felt that he was protesting too much, and she felt it as well. " I have married you."

That statement was met with silence and he realized it was probably the wrong thing to say. It sounded twisted. Almost selfish. Almost wistful. Why had he given Mifuyu up, really?

" Why, my lord?" Fuuko asked, almost inaudibly, he had to lean down to hear her. " Indeed, why did you marry me?"

" I love you." He whispered, although they both knew that it was only partly true. He frowned. Why did she have to ask that?

" You spoke of a girl… you said you didn't love her as you love me. Was that a lie? How can you love me when we are alike and you don't love her?" Fuuko stood up, the packed lunch rolling onto the grass, forgotten. " Do you lie everytime you say you love me?"

" I married you, Fuuko, isn't that enough?" he asked coldly. He remembered Mifuyu's brown eyes and he wanted to cry.

Her green eyes were shuttered against him. She looked away. The sorrow in her had subsided, or rather, she had hidden it cunningly away. " It is not enough for you, my lord. It never was." She wanted to run away, but she knew he would not like that. Even she would not like that. She had run away for too long, she had gone so far. She sat down again, staring at the package, so gaily wrapped, on the grass. " I know that. You don't need to hide it from me. I might possess you, but it will never be enough. I knew it to be so. But I married you, because my love dictated me to do so. Because I would not listen to anyone. Because I knew that I would live in pain and sorrow gladly to be with you."

He knelt in front of her like a monk asking the gods for supplication. " Why is it not enough?" he asked, wanting so much for her to enclose him in her embrace. How could it be not enough when he felt so for her? When he felt for her so strongly that love outlasted her memory?

" Because you are dead to her Tokiya." Someone answered. " Because you are dead to everything but Mifuyu and her memories."

He clutched at his head, remembering. Yes. Yanagi Sakoshita, he tried to love her because she looked like Mifuyu, but that wasn't enough. He couldn't feel anything for her but the indulgence of brotherly affection. He groaned.

" My lord!" Fuuko said, softly. It didn't seem to be her nature to panic. She glared at the hooded someone by the edge of the creek. " Who are you?" she hissed, clutching at his shoulders. " Identify yourself!"

The cloaked figure glided closer to where they were sitting, so gently and swiftly it seemed like but black cloth dancing in the winds with nothing material inside. Tokiya gasped. The figure reached out to knock Fuuko away from him. He heard her cry out even as the woods vanished. There was only darkness. And in the midst of that nothingness, were they.

" This is a dream." He muttered, eyes wide. " a nightmare…" he bowed his head. And Death had come in sleep to take him away. He would never regain the Ensui. Never see Fuuko smile again.

" Yes, it is, Mi-chan." Fuuko was standing again. She was looking at him intently. " You can get out of it. You can still wake up."

He touched her face gently. This was what he wanted! To touch her face. And he never realized until now. " But you?" he said, incoherently. " If I wake up, where would you be?"

She slapped his hand away, laughing. The gesture hurt him. The laughter tore his heart apart. " You kid yourself, Tokiya Mikagami." She said, coldly. " You ask me where I should be! I was always there, _my lord_. It was you who never cared."

" But why?" he asked, hands clenching into fists.

" You are dead."

" It is not enough."

The first speaker reached out and pulled down the hood. " Tokiya, would you not stay here?" It was Mifuyu who said that. Mifuyu who now looked at him, wrapped in the cloak! Her shroud hadd been white. The imperfect white of pearls. " Do you not love me?" she was crying, and it broke his heart. But not enough pain. Not the same pain when Fuuko slapped his hand away.

" It is not enough." The girl repeated.

Tokiya took a step backward. Fuuko was right. It wasn't enough. And Mifuyu was right. He was dead to everybody because he was so wrapped up in her death! He didn't want to wake up because this was a world where Mifuyu was alive. It wasn't because of his 'wife'. The love he never knew existed was there, but he was dead to it because he wanted only to remember his sister. He cabbot fully love anybody, because of his first love, Mifuyu.

" But Mifuyu…" he said in a lost way. " Mifuyu is…" he gulped at the words. The finality of them. " she is…dead."

_Your friends need you, hanata._

" Mi-chan!"

" He is alright, Fuuko san." A calm voice intoned, soothingly. " But he must not be disturbed now, he needs to rest."

" I don't care, Saicho." The voice was loud, testy. Tokiya smiled. " I won his Ensui back. Doesn't that give me an immunity to the rules?"

" Fuuko san…" an exasperated sigh. Then the soft click of the door opening.

Tokiya lay on the bed. Fuuko had never noticed until now how pale he really was. Yanagi and Saicho had healed him so that his wounds were gone. But he was still tired. And he had so much blood neither of them could not supply.

She got closer to him wanting to feel his breath against her face, to ascertain that he was truly alive. " Mi-chan?" her hands tightened around the Ensui nervously. " Mi-chan, I have fulfilled my promise. I have your Ensui back."

He looked at her. " Kirisawa…" he said, slowly. He reached out to touch her hair. " I dreamt… a funny dream." He smiled.

" What was it?" she said gently. So gently for Fuuko Kirisawa. This was a side to her that he never noticed before.

" You had long hair." He answered simply, making her laugh.

" Would you like my hair if I let it grow long?" she asked, smiling still.

He turned away slowly, almost shyly. His hair was untied, and it fell in cascades down the white pillow beneath his head. " It doesn't matter." He murmured. " If you like your hair short… it is enough."

" Yes, Mi-chan. Enough."

Ai: :: sniffs:: I don't know if I was touched or touched in the head for writing such a cheesy fic. Heck, I read too much cheese. Hope you didn't fall asleep midway… or fall out of love with me after all this time. :: sniffs again :: bad Ai, bad Ai! Thanks for giving me your time. I hoped I have touched a vein in your day to day existence. As for the strength matters… it never really occurred to me that way. If I made it sound like Tokiya is stronger than Fuuko, it was unintentional. But we must also take into consideration the fact that Fuuko is female, shorter than Tokiya, with shorter limbs. I'm really sorry.


End file.
